Six Items or Less: A Rule I Took Very Seriously

Saw another post that reminded me of this old story, figured I'd share.

Many years ago, I worked as the Specialist - pretty much the department manager - of the home electronics section of a certain bullseye-themed shopping destination. This was in a rural town undergoing a population boom, so the store as a whole was understaffed pretty much all the time. This meant there was never more than one person back in my department (usually me, and God forbid I ever get coverage for a break), and the job was a lot more hands-on and customer service-oriented back then.

The store being understaffed meant I often had people with carts full of stuff coming back to my department for checkout so they didn't have to deal with the lines at the front registers. I would entertain this, if the person was nice and I didn't have other customers waiting. But for the most part, I stuck to the rule plastered on signs by both of my registers: Customers were not allowed to use my checkout to buy more than six items from outside my department.

So, one holiday season, I am going through it. Just an absolute nightmare of a day, but I'm making it happen. I'm literally explaining video games and digital cameras to customers while I ring other customers up. Not great, but people are being cool about it. But it does mean I'm not paying a ton of attention to people in my line until they get to my register.

Cue this Proto-Karen. Hauls up to my counter with a cartload of all sorts of stuff - none of it from my department. "Finally!" she says, as she starts unloading her cart. "I thought the line back here was supposed to be quicker, I can't believe you'd make us wait like that."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I say. "But I actually cannot check out more than six items back here." And I move some of her stuff out of the way to tap the sign explaining the rule.

Now, I know what you think happens next ... but it didn't. "Okay," she says. "Can you ring up these six items?"

"Sure." And I do. As I'm finishing her transaction, handing her the bag and receipt, she piles six more items on the counter. "Now do these six," she says.

Ah, so that's her game. "Of course, ma'am. But you will have to wait in line again."

Proto-Karen just gives the most dramatic sigh. "Look, sweetie," she says, like she's talking to a toddler. "You can either do this a bunch of times or ring it all up at once, but I am not waiting in this line again. I have better things to do. Ring me up, or I'm taking this to your manager."

Now, again, I am going through it. Also, I'm amazing at my job and have survived worse customer encounters than this. Plus, the manager on duty was our resident Zero-Fucks Manager. So I motion to the line and say, in my best fake customer service voice, "All these people have better things to do. But they wait, because that's how it works. I am not making them wait longer just for you. Six. Items. Or. Less. You can get to the back of my line, or take your stuff up front."

"No."

I didn't say anything else to her. I moved to my other register, which management insisted we keep cashed even though I never had anyone to run it. And I called the customer behind Proto-Karen over to that side of my counter. He seemed confused for a minute, but then rushed over, "Yeah, I just needed a game from the case."

I walk over, get the game, walk back, ring him up, and he leaves. "Next." And the next guy, catching on, rushes over. People in line start chuckling. The line shifts to my new register, cutting Proto-Karen off.

Reader, when I tell you this woman blew up, I almost mean it literally. I had never heard anyone get so loud in my store. She was furious, screaming at me, screaming at the people behind her in line, screaming at the people laughing at her antics. I'd have called security, except she was sweeping her stuff into her cart and smashing her way away from my counter even as she screamed. I honestly thought she might die of a heart attack, because it's fair to say she wasn't in the best shape.

She did find the manager, though I didn't see her again and heard nothing else about it until closing. At that point, Zero-Fucks Manager caught up with me and asked what happened. I was honest, and my story matched hers. She had shared it with the full expectation my manager would back her.

He did not back her. He wouldn't have done it anyway, but he had extra reason here: She tried to walk out of the store with a cartload of items and a receipt for only six of them. Security stopped her on the way out. Why she thought the manager would back her attempt to steal a cart full of stuff, none of us understood.